


like a man

by DanseDan



Series: Identity Crisis Pasta Villain Gender Fics [1]
Category: Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, PWP, Self-Insert, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, character study but make it horny idek, porn with gender affirmation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:56:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27114341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanseDan/pseuds/DanseDan
Summary: “Shall I take you like a man, soldier?”(We Don't Talk About This Fic, I'm Going Thru Some Shit)
Relationships: angel eyes/original character, could be read as angel eyes/trans!blondie I suppose? but uh really just if you squint
Series: Identity Crisis Pasta Villain Gender Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979114
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5





	like a man

**Author's Note:**

> Hello.  
> I am, at present moment, as the kids say, Going Through It. As a very healthy coping mechanism I now have like 6 different PWP fics drafted that can incredibly loosely be called horny character studies of Spaghetti Western villains/antagonists but are more realistically just Self-inserting to cope. Enjoy(?) the ride along with me as I do everything to figure my shit out except the easiest and most direct path possible because that one's too vulnerable! woohoo!!!
> 
> also Angel Eyes looks hot in the union uniform don't @ me.

Pressed against the wall, cheek to the hard, cold surface of the empty window, two bodies closed in tight together in the dark back-room of the office. The captain was shockingly warm, for all his cold-bloodedness, and the younger man could feel the heat off his palms- too hot, feverish heat- as they slid into his trousers, held his hips in place for him to grind against, already half-hard.

“Shall I take you like a man, soldier?”

His voice- the light twang ringing harshly in his ear- arrived with the subtlest hint of sincerity, an overtone of pride. A minute ago, the cold inquiry from that same voice had to the young soldier seemed to spell his death, at the very least a resignation to a living fate that stood its rival. An hour ago, it barked silent, stoic orders to the Union soldiers stationed in the southern dessert. Before that, no-one knows. The captain had appeared one day in full regalia, and though several insisted he must have been part of their corps to be promoted, none could remember that sharp, intellectual face, those piercing brown eyes, or that voice.

The soldier wills himself to speak, fighting stubbornly against the mewls that threaten to overtake him as the older man’s mustache brushes against his neck, warning for each breath and bite and hot, hot trail of tongue against sensitive nape.

“mnhgh, yes.” Earns him a slap to the ass.

“What did you say, soldier?”

“yes, captain.” He demurs. “…though I don’t mind if… if you touch me, captain.”

There, the other time he’s heard that voice- at nighttime, in desperate, fleeting dreams that almost make that marked absence on him a bit of a blessing. Warm, wet dreams that in no way match up to the real thing, so miraculously acquired.

The captain only hums in response, moving a stable, sap-tan hand forwards and finding his arousal, standing on command as much as possible, engorged in wetted lips. He encompasses it in its elegant fingertips, sets a viciously slow pace, rolling his hips into the young man’s ass as he strokes him down, a muffled symphony of groans and onomatopoeic smacks of wetness trapped inside the cabin’s wooden walls not without effort. And the captain was laughing, a low, deep, rumbling laugh that seemed not just natural but intentional, spoke of the seniority of his position, of power incurred not just through rank but through sheer essence- that air of deadliness he carried himself with, rare this deep into the war. It made the soldier keen under his touch, hips spasming, breathing heavy.

“well, tell me how you want it, soldier.” The smile apparent in his voice, finding amusement in the shiver that it drew from the young man’s spine.

“ah-!“ a moment, to find the words again, in a pause between instinctual motion. “I… I want it bad- captain. Please- sir, captain… just- fuck!- take me.”

A laugh, and he peeled back his body and pulled down the soldier’s pants, rubbing briefly at his wetness to draw the slick fluids back and prepare the tight ring of muscle for his entrance. One long, slender finger, then two arching in him, jolting heat through his shivering body. The other hand, drawn from hips to drape over his partner’s mouth in preparation for the sudden absence inside him, swiftly replaced by his long, curved cock, digging in with a single thrust and stilling for a moment, bodies pressed tight together, dick deep inside. The two men, made one, shudder in unison, adjusting to the sensation- the heat, the tension. The captain licks a stripe up the nape of the soldier’s nape, starts to whisper hoarsely between bites (‘go on, son’ and ‘you’re damn tight, soldier’ and ‘quiet down, boy’), moves slowly, gyrating his hips to dig deeper into the welcoming sensations of the body trapped under his. Moving sharply, almost with a lilt, meanwhile muffled moans threatened to spill ever louder from the soldier’s mouth, salivating enough to make the captain’s hand wet. The sounds melding with low, satisfied groans as dirty talk became incoherent, the wet and striking noise of moving faster, faster, faster towards a high and an unraveling, driving into the certain spot that reliably produced a shiver down the soldier’s spine, the goosebumps all the way down his back standing at attention. And they rose, all noise and violence and skin-on-skin-on-heat until it all gave out in one brief moment, and the captain stopped, still sheathed inside, to release inside the slowly tightening warmth, sliding out with a wet, dripping stream of soft white trailing down thighs, drying slow on reddened skin.

And the room stank of sex as the captain serenely drew away from the younger man’s body and started to clean himself, the soldier paralyzed and staring back at him in revitalized panic, over the punishment delayed for pleasure, about the truthful lie the captain had perceived in him.

But the captain just looked back at him with keen, even eyes. Dark eyes, beautiful and terrifying.

“you’re dismissed, soldier.”

“… dismissed, si-”

“for the night, mind you.” a knowing smile. “Go clean and to your tent. There’s work to be done tomorrow”

“But- Captain- well, I-“ why was he answering this point? Is this not what he had wanted? The captain, and his own life as himself again? but why…

“Son, you’re more of a man than half of the damn squadron. Get some rest.” Again that sense of seriousness, the brief glimmer of pride, familiarity. The soldier couldn’t help but wonder from where that fondness came. He might’ve known another man like him.

“yessir, goodnight.”


End file.
